


Under the Skin

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Taking What Comes [8]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: A/B/O, M/M, Tattoos, incidental bleeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys makes a statement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a little while after _Blood in the Streets, Blood in the Walls_.

Rhys gasps when the needle first pierces his skin, and his hand gropes for Vaughn, who takes it immediately and squeezes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Vaughn glances at the tattoo artist who has paused, waiting for Rhys to settle down. “I kinda think she needs you to hold still for this, buddy.”

“You’re sure you want it there?” The artist asks again while Rhys is breathing through the sensation. “There’s a reason I had you sign that indemnity clause.”

Vaughn snorts. “As if that’ll save you if you fuck this up. He’s Handsome Jack’s favorite, you know.” Rhys frowns at Vaughn, and the tattooist presses her lips together. She looks like she’s on the verge of calling this off entirely, which Rhys can’t have - it had been hard enough to find someone who would give him this tattoo in the first place, especially with his reputation as  _ Handsome Jack’s favorite. _

Rhys doesn’t know if that’s true. He knows that he’d like it to be.

“Hey.” Rhys squeezes Vaughn’s fingers. “I’m fine. It’s fine,” he says to the artist, shifting a little to look over his shoulder. “I just wasn’t ready for it. Please don’t stop.”

The artist sighs, and turns his head back so he’s facing forward again. “Okay. Just  _ stop moving _ .”

Rhys lets his forehead rest on the brace, closes his eyes, and this time when the needle slides in he lets a breath out but he doesn’t move.

It’s a strange sensation. That part of his neck is rife with nerve endings, so the needle punching in and out definitely  _ hurts _ ; but it’s also tripping something in his brain that is definitely  _ not _ pain. His  _ bonding site,  _ Jack had called it, where someday an alpha would mark him and claim him.

Rhys is taking care of the marking part right now. The claiming - either that will come later, or it won’t, but at least he’s making his preferences clear.

The sensation on his neck stops, and as Rhys opens his eyes the tattooist rolls her stool around so she can see his face.

“Just checking in. You still good?”

Rhys breathes in and out once, slow and deliberate. He can still feel a phantom tingling on his skin, but he’s come this far, he can’t leave it half finished.

“Yeah.” His voice sounds strange in his ears. “Keep going.”

The artist nods and rolls back out of his vision, and a second later the sting starts up again.

It’s not pain, but it’s not quite pleasure either. When Jack plays with that part of his neck, sliding his fingers along or putting the barest hint of teeth on it, it lights up a part of Rhys’ brain he didn’t even know he  _ had _ . It’s like what he feels in the midst of a heat when Jack knots him, only he’s lucid for it. It’s heat and lightning and relief; it’s overwhelming and the only thing that brings him back to himself. This is the barest echo of that, wrapped in the bite of the needle.

The tattooist pauses to blot away the blood drawn to the surface, and the gentle pressure of her hands is such a contrast to the sharp sting of the needle that his head spins a little. Rhys can see the red-speckled wipe out of the corner of his eye, and then the needle is back and Rhys closes his eyes again.

The tingling spreads over Rhys’ neck and wraps gentle barbs around his spine. It comes in waves, ebbing when the tattooist pauses to pat his neck dry, flowing back when she brings the needle back to his skin. It’s easy to get lost in it, to just breathe and let the sensation fill him.  In fact, he doesn’t realize that it’s over until he hears Vaughn’s voice filtering in, as if from a distance.

“Rhys? Come on, talk to me.  _ Rhys _ .” Vaughn sounds like he’s starting to get worried, so Rhys blinks and pulls himself back from that warm staticky space, breathing in deeply and letting the inrush of air clear his head.

“Yeah,” he says vaguely. “I’m good.”

He sits up slowly, Vaughn’s supporting hand on his back. He feels a little light-headed, and as the tattooist loosely tapes a bandage over the fresh tattoo she ends up directing the instructions for aftercare and followup mostly to Vaughn. Rhys doesn’t really feel like he settles back into his skin until they’re back out on the street, Vaughn looking like he’s two seconds from grabbing the back of Rhys’ shirt to stop him wandering into traffic.

“I’m fine,” Rhys says, clearing his throat to try to sound more believable.

“Sure.” Vaughn doesn’t sound convinced, but he also looks like he’s got something on his mind. He hadn’t thought much of this idea from the very beginning, but Rhys had been determined to see this through with or without Vaughn, and Vaughn had reluctantly agreed to help.

“What are you going to tell him?” Vaughn asks quietly. It’s a good question.

“I don’t know.” Rhys touches the bandage of the side of his neck again, then drops his hand. “I’m still working on it.” That’s only partially a lie; Rhys knows what he wants to say - what this whole  _ gesture _ is supposed to say - he just doesn’t know if he can say it to Jack’s face

 

* * *

 

There’s no hiding it. When Rhys walks in with a carefully taped bandage on his neck, the first words out of Jack’s mouth are, “What the  _ hell _ happened to you?”

Of course, hiding it was never the point.

Rhys takes a deep breath. He really doesn’t know how this is going to go over. He reaches up to peel the bandage away from his neck, turning his head so Jack can see the black circular design as it’s uncovered. He can hear Jack’s sudden inhale, and then Jack is striding over and reaching out, stopping just short of actually touching the newly marked skin. Rhys can feel his hand hovering there, and he wants Jack to close that last little distance and  _ touch _ , but he also thinks that it might be too much right now, while it’s so fresh.

Jack barks out a short incredulous laugh. “That must have been a hell of a ride” he says, shifting his hand to Rhys’ shoulder, and Rhys drops his arm and looks back at Jack.

“It was,” he says, grinning, but he falters when Jack doesn’t smile back immediately.

“Why’d you do it?”  _ Why there _ is what Jack really means, and this is the important question, the one Rhys knew he’d have to answer eventually. Rhys takes a deep breath and hopes that he got this right.

“So that everyone knows my choice,” he says. and this is bold, bolder than he ever thought he’d be with Jack, but the reward is worth the risk. Rhys has only had a couple heats with Handsome Jack, but as far as Rhys is concerned, his choice is made. No one is ever going to compare to Jack; no one even comes close.

And maybe Jack  _ will _ get tired of him; Rhys has already had interested parties approach him “for when the inevitable happens.” Jack’s not known for keeping omegas around long-term; Rhys doesn’t think he’s ever seen the same one twice.

Rhys isn’t one hundred percent in tune with the social rules for omegas - those took a backseat to survival when he and Vaughn were on the streets, and then again when they were making a place for themselves in the gang. But Rhys knows enough to know that a scarf or a high collar on an unbonded omega means  _ spoken for _ , and a tattoo was the most indelible way of conveying that message he could think of.

Jack’s choice might not be made yet. But Rhys’ is, and he wants everyone to know it.

Including Jack, who is standing very still and looking at Rhys with a face that Rhys can’t read at all.

“You know that’s permanent,” Jack says, and Rhys doesn’t know if he’s talking about the tattoo or the eventual bonding it implies, that Rhys is hoping for. But even if it doesn’t happen, Rhys has made his intentions clear; he’d rather be alone than let another alpha touch him.

“I won’t change my mind,” Rhys says firmly, and something shifts in Jack’s eyes.

Jack hums, mouth pulling up at the corner, and he shifts his hand so his thumb brushes over the freshly marked skin. Rhys inhales sharply at the rush of sensation, skin prickling and tender, currents running under the surface.

“Well,” Jack says thoughtfully. “As long as you’re sure, pumpkin.”

As if there was ever the possibility that Rhys would have said no.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
